"After incredible hardships patiently supported, after desperate battles stubbornly contested, the work of the Canadians is still incomplete. But they will complete it, meeting new necessities with fresh exertions, for it is the work of civilisation and of liberty." These words still contain some truth in relation to the conditions of to-day. The work is still incomplete. But in the interval which has passed the dimensions of the task have wholly altered. In this war success depended, as Mr. Churchill once pointed out, not upon episodes, but upon tendencies. And in the last ten months the tendencies have all marched with the terrible inevitableness of a Greek tragedy towards the doom of the Central Powers.
In that development the Canadians have played their part. They will continue to play it, "meeting new necessities with fresh exertions," until the happy day when peace is dictated upon the terms which the Allies require. And then they will return to the farm, the bank, the university, the shop, and the ranch, as the seven thousand returned who fought in our South African quarrel. But is it possible that they should return without having stamped upon the loose constitution of the Empire articles at once more formal and more mutual than those with which until this war we have on the whole been content?
It does not seem possible, and it is certainly not desirable, that this remarkable military co-operation should be so unfruitful in constitutional result. In this final chapter of the second volume—the last volume in which it is likely that the present writer will be able to undertake the responsibility of authorship—he may perhaps be forgiven if he allows himself the intrusion of a more personal note than has been consistent with the scope of that part of the work which has preceded it.
"Canada in Flanders" suggests many reflections to a mind either acquainted with the past or imaginative in relation to the future. It speaks of achievement; and it also speaks of the agony of lingering death; it recalls Ypres, which will perhaps be in the history of Young Canada what Verdun is in the history of Old France; it recalls, too, the truncated bodies of the maimed who have offered the sacrifice of radiant youth and health upon a shrine the reality of which to them may perhaps sometimes have seemed a little remote. "Canada in Flanders," if confined to the military activities of Canadians in that unlovable country, would awake these and many other tragic and glorious memories. The pages which precede these words are a contribution and an effort to do justice to this branch of the subject.
But to the title "Canada in Flanders" must be conceded the relevance of some other observations which as a Canadian I think ought to be made, because it is plain that the Empire is still in an evolutionary stage; because plans and policies involving great changes are being boldly canvassed; because I myself am in favour of great changes; and, finally, because to see the facts as they really are is a condition precedent to fruitful development.
The first step in such a consideration is to examine shortly the nature, the significance, and the inevitable consequences of the Dominion's contribution to the necessities of this gigantic struggle.
The degree of heroism which has been constantly displayed by Canadians of all ranks will be admitted by all who have read these pages. The moral grandeur of their deeds can only receive justice from those who keep in mind considerations which are sometimes overlooked, but which are nevertheless of immense importance.
A very distinguished French General—a General than whom none more distinguished has been discovered by France in this war—and very few by any country in any war—was good enough once to discuss with me the respective qualities of the French and British infantry. Our conversation took place under circumstances which invited and won from him both sympathy and candour. He spoke of the soldiers of France in words so eloquent, so full of personal reminiscence, so charged with emotion, so vibrant with a wholly attractive pride, that for the first time I fully understood how deep and how pure are the wells from which the patriotism of this immortal nation is distilled. Then he began to speak of the British forces. Of these he made this penetrating observation: "To the British of all nations this singular tribute must be paid: that their infantry has never been engaged in any protracted war without a universal admission that it was the equal of any infantry in the world; and yet that it has never been afforded the supreme incentive to soldiers, that of fighting on their own soil, and for their own women and children at the moment and on the scene of their instant peril.
"In Flanders, under Marlborough, in the Peninsula and at Waterloo, under Wellington, your infantry have compelled the admiration of the world. And yet, my friend, they have never responded, as we have, to this appeal:—
"'Soldiers! facing you are the men who still occupy the sacred soil of France: who have ravished your women: and murdered old men, your compatriots. Soldiers, advance to avenge your country and those of your blood and race whom a savage enemy has done to death!'"